Trevor's Pigtails
by FloatingCloudBadger
Summary: The story of Neville and Hannah - from planting buddies in Herbology to their first kid at Hogwarts, with much randomness on the way.
1. Herbology

**Herbology**

Feeling a little helpless, I realise that I'm the only one in Hufflepuff without a partner, and I'm standing at a planting tray all on my own.

"Um…" says a timid voice behind me, and when I spin around, I see it's a red-faced Gryffindor boy who I vaguely recognize. "Do you want to partner me?"

Relief floods through my body as I nod and move up to make room for the boy at the planting tray.

"I'm Hannah," I tell him as we start working, each of us using half the planting tray to plant our seeds.

"I'm Neville," he replies, looking up at me and blushing harder.

There's a short pause, and then I realise how I know him.

"Did you lose a toad on the train?" I ask, a little shyly, and Neville's face goes even redder as he nods, laughing ruefully.

I laugh a little in reply, and I've made a friend.

***

At the end of the lesson, we look down at the plants that are already starting to burst through the soil.

One side of the planting tray is perfectly neat, with the plants growing straight and in perfect, symmetrical lines.

The other is all over the place, and the plants are growing so wildly that only about half of them are still in the tray.

Needless to say, the neat side is Neville's.

"How do you get the plants to stay so neat?" I demand, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

Neville grins. "You have to plant them slightly diagonal, because they move around when they're growing," he explains.

"Oh," I say, slightly put out. "How did you know that?"

"My Great Uncle Algie's good with plants," Neville tells me. "He taught me all this stuff."

"Oh," I say again.

"Right, class," says Professor Sprout, interrupting our awkward conversation. "When you're tidy, you can go!"

As we tidied as we went along, Neville and I are the first to go.

When I head back up to the Common Room to tidy up before dinner, I can't help but wish Neville was in Hufflepuff too.


	2. Tears

**Tears**

**A/N - Lupin did NOT tell Snape - Lupin was talking to Sprout, and Snape overheard. Lupin is not that mean, and he is also very sexy.**

Stupid as I know it is, I can't help but cry.

I sit at the top of the stairs to the dungeons, which should be a private place, but I've barely been there for five minutes when a timid voice says my name.

"Hannah?"

I wipe my eyes, and look up to see who it is.

It's Neville, my Herbology partner, and I can't help but feel a little embarrassed. I look back down at my lap.

"Are you alright?" he asks nervously, hovering beside me.

I nod, trying hard not to burst into tears again.

Neville sighs quietly, and sits down beside me.

For a moment, he looks like he wants to put his arm around me, but he doesn't quite manage it, and just pats my hand comfortingly.

"What's the matter?" he asks, sounding even more apprehensive.

I don't know why I want to tell Neville, but I try.

"Professor Lupin…" I trail off, biting hard on my lip.

"Lupin said something to upset you?" says Neville, surprised.

I shake my head. "No… it's just… he was monitoring our dorm a few nights ago… and I… didn't feel well…"

"Oh," says Neville, looking understanding.

There's a long silence.

"What happened?" Neville blurts out at last.

"It's kind of embarrassing," I tell him after a pause.

Neville seems about to respond, when we hear a voice behind us, sounding amused.

"Am I interrupting something?" says Snape.

We jump up, me wiping my eyes so he doesn't see I've been crying.

"Clearly I am," says Snape cruelly. "Well, glad as I am to see inter-house bonding…"

Snape paused, apparently savouring our expressions.

"… this is not the place," sneers Snape.

Both red-faced, Neville and I are determinedly not looking at each other.

Snape's lip curls. "However upset your girlfriend might be," he finishes, smirking at my red eyes.

I swallow, determined not to let Snape see me burst out crying.

"Or," adds Snape, "however much blood might be coming out of her."

I take a sharp breath in, instinctively biting down on my thumb to stop the tears, my face positively crimson now.

Smiling nastily, Snape turns and goes into the dungeons, presumably happy at upsetting me.

Neville glares at his back and I have to smile.

"Stupid drag-queen," he mutters and as we suddenly look up at each other, we start to laugh.


	3. Ball

**Ball**

After the rare incidence of a Transfiguration lesson that I actually understand, I'm walking up the stairs to Divination when something comes flying around the corner and bumps right into me.

I stagger back a little bit, dropping some of my books.

"Oh Merlin," says the something. "I'm sorry, let me help you."

"No, no, it's fine," I say absently, picking up my books, finally looking up at the something's face.

As I look, my face blushes vaguely pink - it's Neville.

"Sorry," repeats Neville, his face scarlet.

"S'alright," I tell him again.

We stand looking awkwardly at each other for a second, until I remember that I have a lesson in about 30 seconds.

"Well, I suppose I'd better get to Divination," I say awkwardly. "See you."

"No!" says Neville, then blushes even redder. "I mean…"

"Neville, why are you being weird?" I ask warily, smiling a little.

"I just…" Neville takes a deep breath, not looking at me. "Do you…?"

"Do I what?"

I look at Neville's blushing face, trying to work out why he looks so desperately uncomfortable.

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?" he blurts out at last, staring down at his feet.

Suddenly, I feel as uncomfortable as Neville looks.

"Oh, Neville…" I say, wishing I had chosen a different route to Divination. "I…"

"Oh, that's alright," says Neville, looking even more embarrassed and trying to smile. "I'll see you in Divination."

"No!" I say, horrified at how upset he looks. "Neville, it's just that… I'm already going with Ernie."

Neville looks a little happier. "Oh."

"Yeah," I reply, my face an even more luminous crimson.

We stand looking at our feet for a while until I look at my watch.

"Oh, darn," I mutter, looking up at Neville. "I'd better get going, I'm late."

"Oh, right, yeah," says Neville. "I'll see you there… I left my book in my dorm, I'm meant to be going to get it…"

"Bye, then," I mumble, and set off once again for Divination, dying of embarrassment.

***

At midnight, the Weird Sister's stop playing, and all around me, there's an outbreak of kissing.

Even Ernie gives me a quick peck, and I feel my cheeks glow pink.

"Come on," says Ernie. "Let's get going, before everyone does."

I nod. "I'll see you back at the Common Room," I tell him. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom."

"Alright," says Ernie. "Don't be too long, you'll get in trouble."

I nod again. "I won't be."

Giving Ernie a smile, I hurry off to the First floor, and I as come around a corner, I once again collide with someone.

"Sorry!" we chorus, and laugh a little bit.

"I need to start coming around corners more slowly," says Neville, and I laugh again.

"So…" I say, to break the awkward silence. "I hear you went with Ginny Weasley."

Neville smiles ruefully. "We were only really going as friends. She spent most of the night dancing with Michael Corner."

"Oh," I say, and smile a little awkwardly.

"Yeah," replies Neville.

There's another long silence, as I realise just how much I need to go to the bathroom.

"How did it go with Ernie?" he asks at last.

"It was fun," I say shyly.

Neville nods a little absently.

"I'd better go," I tell him, practically hopping from foot to foot.

"Yeah," says Neville again. "I'll see you."

"Bye," I say and speed off.

"You look really pretty tonight!"

Halfway down the corridor, I hear someone blurt that out after me, and, blushing, I turn around and grin at Neville.


	4. Revision

**Revision**

**A/N - Just in case this isn't clear, it's the night after Hannah bursts out crying in Herbology. Professor Sprout noticed and kind of yelled it to the class, by accident, if you're wondering.**

I am so going to fail my OWLs.

I sit in the library, attempting to memorise something about plants that I do not understand, at all.

The only subject I think I might possibly pass is Defence Against the Dark Arts practical, and, really, that's only because of the DA.

"Hi," says a slightly nervous voice above me.

"Hey," I reply, not looking up at Neville.

"What are you revising?" he asks, coming around the table to look over my shoulder.

"Herbology," I mumble.

"Want me to test you?" says Neville, after a short pause.

"Yes, please!" I half-sob, handing him the book.

"I see that Calming Draught worked, then," mutters Neville, grinning.

"Shut up," I say, though I'm smiling.

"You can't deny it was really funny," says Neville, flicking through my notes to look for an appropriate page to test me on.

"It wasn't!" I protest, laughing. "It was really, really embarrassing!"

Neville grins. "At least Professor Sprout didn't embarrass you further."

I groan, laying my head on the table.

"She's ridiculously unsubtle," I laugh, my voice muffled. "I bet no one would have noticed otherwise!"

"I noticed," points out Neville.

"Yeah," I concede, sitting up. "But you were right next to me, and, by the way, you weren't much help."

"Hey!" protests Neville. "I… patted you on the back…"

I laugh, my hand over my mouth so as not to annoy Madam Pince.

"Right, revision," I say, coming back to reality.

"Yeah," says Neville. "So, what is the Mandrake used for?"

I know the answer.

It all seems so much easier with Neville.


	5. OWLs

**OWLs**

When we come out of the Herbology OWL, I'm so glad I revised with Neville, because I know he's the only reason I knew the answers to any of that.

I'm walking back to the Common Room with Susan and Leanne when I catch sight of Neville.

"I'll be back in a second," I say to the others, and quickly dash over to Neville.

Neville is facing the other way, and seems vaguely surprised when I come running up to him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I squeal, throwing my arms around his neck.

"Hello," says Neville, making me laugh.

"Seriously!" I say, stepping back, and feeling my cheeks heat up. "I swear, I would have failed that miserably if you hadn't helped me!"

Neville beams, his own face pink. "Well, you're welcome."

"I should go," I tell him, glancing round and seeing that Susan and Leanne are still waiting for me. "But thank you!"

"Hannah, you would have passed anyway," he tells me, his eyebrows raised. "You're very intelligent."

I laugh at Neville's tone. "You sound like a teacher."

Neville turns even pinker, and grins at me.

"Well," I say, alarmed at Susan's scowl. "I really should go."

"Yeah, me too," agrees Neville. "See you, Hannah."

I smile up at him, and walk back over to Susan and Leanne.

"Why are you scowling?" I ask Susan, as we start to walk back to the Common Room.

"Because," says Susan, as if she's explaining something very obvious, "you're dating Ernie."

I blink at her.

"Why do you have a problem with that?" I ask, puzzled. "It's been over a year, and you've never cared before."

"It doesn't bother me," says Susan, rolling her eyes. "But that'll bother Ernie."

"It'll bother Ernie that I'm going out with him?" I say incredulously. "Thanks."

"No," she says irritably. "It'll bother Ernie that you're like that with Neville!"

My eyes widened, my face turning bright red.

"Like what?" I demand, my heart speeding up for some reason.

Susan gives me a sarcastic look. "You hugged him."

"Yeah, so?" I say, laughing humourlessly. "I hug you two, don't I?"

"Not like that you don't," says Susan darkly. "You so like Neville."

"I don't!" I protest, horrified that they'd think that. "Neville's just my friend!"

"Hannah," says Leanne, not looking half as annoyed as Susan, but still a little unhappy.

"I do not like Neville," I say firmly, folding my arms to my chest.

Susan makes an irritated noise. "Whatever, Hannah. Just ditch Ernie if you're going to do that, alright?"

"Susan, I am not doing anything to Ernie," I exclaim. "There is nothing between me and Neville!"

"Whatever, Hannah," she says again, storming off before I have a chance to reply.

"What was that all about?" I huff, turning to Leanne.

"Well…" says Leanne. "It does kind of look like you like Neville."

"I don't!" I insist.

"Yeah, but…" mumbles Leanne. "It looked like it."

I sigh.

I definitely don't like Neville Longbottom.


	6. Broken

**Broken**

"Hannah, can I talk to you?" says Ernie, grabbing my arm as I come out of the girl's dorm for breakfast, just after the OWLs are finished.

I'm astonishingly happy.

No more revision, and it's Saturday.

"Yeah," I say brightly to Ernie, barely even registering how grim his face looks.

Ernie sighs, and, taking my hand, leads me over to the corner of the Common Room.

"Look, Hannah…" he says, not looking me in the eye. "You're great, really, but…"

I feel my good mood evaporate slightly as I sense what's coming.

"Hannah, it hasn't really been… well, right, I suppose, these past few weeks… and…"

For the first time ever, Ernie seems to be struggling for words.

"Alright," I say quietly, interrupting his stuttering. "Ernie, I get it."

"I really am sorry," says Ernie.

I nod, trying to smile. "It's OK. I've been feeling kind of the same."

That isn't a lie, so I don't know why Ernie saying it first shocks me.

"I'm going to go down to breakfast," he tells me after a pause. "I'll see you, Hannah."

I nod absently, wondering just how awkward it's going to be around Ernie now.

My good mood completely gone now, I take a deep breath and trudge down to breakfast.

Deciding to take a longcut, I go round by Gryffindor tower.

The only problem is that the door I'm trying to go through just won't open.

I sigh in frustration and I'm about to give up when I hear a voice behind me.

"It's a push door, Hannah."

Taking a deep breath, I turn around and see Neville, trying not to smile.

"Thank you," I tell him dully, pushing the door open and going through.

"Are you alright?" asks Neville, hurrying up to come and walk beside me.

I take a deep breath.

"Ernie just dumped me," I say, deciding to get used to the sound of the words.

"Oh," says Neville. "I'm sorry."

I can't help but notice that Neville has a hint of a smile playing on his mouth.

"And why are you smiling?" I demand, spinning around to face him.

"Sorry," he apologizes hurriedly, wiping the smile quickly off of his face. "I was thinking about something else."

"Good for you," I grunt, turning back around.

Neville looks a little hurt, and I sigh again.

"I'm sorry," I groan, stopping again. "I didn't mean to be all… It's just that this was supposed to be a really good day, and Ernie goes and does that… and Susan's in a strop with me… plus I think I'm PMSing…"

Beside me, I see Neville turn pink.

"Oh Merlin," I say tiredly. "You didn't want to know that, did you?"

"No," says Neville, sounding a little nauseous.

I sigh again. "I don't even know why I'm upset."

Neville looks vaguely surprised. "You just got dumped. Plus… you're…"

I smile a little. "I know, but, me and Ernie… it's not been great for ages, to be honest."

"Oh," says Neville again. "Still, it has to hurt."

"You've never been dumped, have you, Neville?" I ask gloomily.

"Not as such," he admits. "But I had to ask three girls to the Yule Ball before one would go with me."

"Me, Hermione and Ginny?"

Neville nods. "Yep."

There's a long silence, as Neville and I both stare at the floor.

"You know…" says Neville at last. "I didn't really like the others like I liked you."

I feel my face burn red, as a smile twitches at the corner of my mouth.

"I mean, you're… you're…"

Neville takes a deep breath.

"You're pretty… and you're sweet..."

I suddenly notice that Neville's come closer, and look up into his wonderfully deep brown eyes.

"And you've got freckles on your nose…"

I carry on staring, as we lean closer to each other.

"And blue eyes… and you care about everyone, no matter who they are…"

Neville tilts his face to one side and we're so close now that our noses are a millimetre away.

"And you're… so… wonderful…"

I feel a tingle go down my spine and my breath starts to speed up as Neville comes even closer.

It was never like this with Ernie.

"What's all this?"

At the sound of the unexpected voice, Neville and I spring apart, so red that Gryffindor's colours look pale.

Professor Sprout looks almost amused.

"Sorry," we mumble in unison.

"On your way, now," says Sprout, her eyebrows raised.

Not looking at each other, we start to speed off in opposite directions.

"Hannah, wait," says Professor Sprout, grabbing my arm. "I want to talk to you."

My eyes wide, I turn to face Sprout.

When Neville's gone, I start to speak.

"Professor, I'm really sorry," I gabble. "I know that was really inappropriate in such a public place, and I shouldn't doing that kind of thing, but it wasn't planned and-"

"Hannah, stop," says Sprout, her face serious. "I just… What's happened between you and Ernie?"

I feel my face flush even redder, as I bite my lip.

I am a horrible, horrible person.

"Ernie and I broke up," I mutter, looking at the floor.

"Oh," says Sprout, surprised. "When?"

"This morning," I admit, feeling sick, and trying not to let the tears welling up in my eyes fall.

"Hannah," says Sprout, sounding shocked.

"I know," I say, biting hard on my lip. "I'm so stupid! I shouldn't have… I mean, Ernie and I only just broke up, and I'm doing _that_ with Neville… but… oh, Merlin, I'm a horrible, horrible, person…"

Professor Sprout takes a deep breath. "Hannah, you're not a horrible person. But, really, I think you should wait for a bit."

I nod.

"Not just because it'll upset Ernie," says Sprout. "But also because, though you probably don't think it, you're probably just doing it a little bit because you're on the rebound, and you're only going to hurt yourself and Neville."

I nod again, feeling a little bit better.

"And I expect you're PMSing," she adds, making my cheeks go even redder.

"Professor," I say, a little shocked.

"Oh, Hannah, it's no secret," she laughs. "Every girl in Hufflepuff is."

I blink, but I suppose it doesn't really matter.


	7. Wait

**Wait**

When I come out of the corridor, I see that Neville has waited for me.

I flush again, hoping that he didn't hear my conversation.

"Hey," says Neville, walking next to me. "You want to take a walk outside?"

I sigh.

"Neville…" I say tiredly, chewing on my thumb. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"What?" says Neville, hurt.

"I'm sorry," I tell him quietly. "But I only just broke up with Ernie…"

"Oh," says Neville. "I guess you're right."

I nod. "I'm really sorry," I tell him. "But, maybe when thing's get… a little less weird…?"

"Yeah," mumbles Neville.

"I'm sorry," I say again. "Really… I just think it's going to end up hurting you…"

It's Neville's turn to nod.

"I'll see you, Neville," I say quietly, not looking at him as I trudge back to the dorm.

I'm not hungry anymore.

***

Of course, I wouldn't see Neville Longbottom again until the first Herbology lesson of next term.

And I think that hurt more than us going out ever would have.


	8. Newt

**Newt**

"Hello," I say timidly to Neville, sitting in my usual place in Herbology for the first time that year.

"Hey," says Neville, and, in his smile, I can tell that he forgives me.

"How was your summer?" I ask.

"It was alright," shrugs Neville.

There's a long silence.

"How was yours?" asks Neville at last.

"Fine," I reply.

This is painful.

"Newts are going to be so hard," I say to break the silence. "I think I want to go back to being 14 again… we were so innocent."

Neville grins. "Really? Don't you remember a certain teacher in our third year?"

I blush, but lie, suppressing a smile. "No. Who?"

"Just someone I think you were slightly in love with," teases Neville, grinning. "And someone who certainly knows about your PMS…"

I laugh, vaguely horrified, and turn to Neville bright red.

"How did you know that?" I demand.

"Hermione told me," he laughs. "Oh, the joys of womanhood…"

"Shut up," I tell him, trying not to grin. "You're not a girl."

"Thankfully," agrees Neville.

There's a long silence, but it's comfortable this time.

"How did he respond?" Neville asks impishly.

"Neville!" I cry, my face redder than I would have thought possible.

"Seriously," laughs Neville.

"Neville, I am not talking about this with you!"

"Are you PMSing right now?"

I can't stop laughing now, even as I hit him on the arm. "Stop it!"

Neville grins, but thankfully stops.

"Do you remember what Snape said that time?" he asks, starting to laugh again. "When we were on the steps?"

"Oh, Merlin," I laugh. ""However much blood might be coming out of your girlfriend.""

We both start to laugh, and I realise just how much I've missed this.

***

After the lesson, Neville takes my hand and drags me over to a quiet place in the grounds, under the old oak tree.

"Do you want to go into Hogsmeade with me?" he says, much more casually than he had used to talk.

"Yeah," I answer immediately, because I really, really do want to go out with Neville Longbottom.

No matter how much Susan will gloat.


	9. Mother

**Mother**

"Hey," I say casually to Neville, sitting down at our place in Herbology.

"Hey," he replies cheerfully, beaming at me.

There's a silence, while I get my books out of my bag.

"The Hogsmeade weekend is this weekend," he tells me.

"Oh, good," I say happily.

For a moment, Neville looks like he wants to kiss me, but when Professor Sprout comes in, he goes pink and turns to face the front.

Sprout gives me a knowing look.

"Right, chaps," she says, rubbing her hands together. "Let's get started."

We're all filling up our planting trays, when an owl flies smack bang into the window.

Several of the girls scream, but I'm worried about the owl, as Professor Sprout hurries outside to get it.

"D'you think it'll be alright?" I ask Neville worriedly.

"Yeah," he says confidently. "Hagrid'll help it if it's injured."

Before I can reply, Professor Sprout comes back into the room, and touches my shoulder cautiously.

"Hannah," she says gently, looking upset. "I need to speak to you outside."


	10. Sleep

**Sleep**

A fortnight passes before I go back to Hogwarts, but when I do, everything seems better.

I have been to the funeral and we have visited her grave a thousand times. I have slept and I have not slept and with every passing second, it seemed to get more real, and the numbness started to melt away.

At first, the reality was agonising.

But by the time I go back to Hogwarts, the reality feels better.

I know it's true now, most of the time, and that seems to feel a bit better.

My eyes are permanently red, but I'm past caring.

I walk into the Common Room and everyone rushes at me, but I don't like it very much, and, though I answer, I'm not paying attention, and I don't really know what I'm answering to.

Eventually, the crowd melts away, and I go upstairs and unpack.

Susan comes up and looks at me with those eyes, and I don't like it.

I almost don't want them to know, because I don't like knowing that they pity me. Somehow, I think it would help if I could have told them myself, in my own time, as little as I want to talk about it.

That night, I do not sleep again, and, unable to bear sitting still, I get up and hope that no one catches me.

Feeling vaguely dizzy, I stumble up the stairs, and into the Great Hall.

I don't let myself cry, but just sit there, huddled up by the Hufflepuff table.

And I think.

I know I should go to bed, but I can't quite bring myself to move.

"Hannah?" says a soft voice from the doorway, and I'm convinced it's a teacher, but I don't look up.

I can hear the person coming closer and closer, timidly, cautiously, but I still don't look at them.

"Hannah," says the gentle voice again, and I can tell that he's near me, now, but I don't reply.

I'm too tired.

The someone sits down beside me, and takes the hand that's laying on the floor beside me and it feels a little better to have someone touching me.

I take another deep breath, determined not to cry.

"It hurts less, after a while," says the voice at last.

I don't reply, but I know somewhere that he's right.

"I live with my Gran," continues the voice. "My parents are in St Mungo's."

There's another long silence.

"They don't recognize me," the voice says, and for the first time, I hear a slight crack.

I think it is that, more than anything else, and makes me hug the figure, suddenly, and bury my face into his chest.

I don't much care who it is as they hold me and I start to cry, because I feel better when they hold me.

I don't even care if it's Snape, or Dumbledore, because it just feels so nice to know that someone else has a crack in their voice.

The voice makes a comforting noise above me, as he gently pulls me to a standing position so my head is resting on his blue pyjamas.

After a while, I step back, wiping my eyes, and the voice was right, because even now it hurts a little less.

"Neville," I mumble, looking up at the figure. "You're Neville."

Neville nods and we stand awkwardly for a while.

"Thank you, Neville," I tell him quietly. "You helped."

Neville takes a deep breath.

"You've never told anyone about your parents before, have you?" I ask almost inaudibly.

Neville shakes his head. "No."

His voice sounds hoarse, and though I don't quite dare say it, I don't think I was the only one crying.

"Thank you, Neville," I say again, and I feel a little better as he walks me up to the Common Room.


	11. Save

**Save**

I brush a comb through my hair again and wander around my dorm, excited.

Finally, finally, finally, it gets to 5 o'clock, and, checking the corridors carefully, I slip out from the Common Room and hurry up to the seventh floor.

Quickly checking the corridor again, I half-walk, half-run past the door three times, whispering "I want to be able to see Neville."

When I open my eyes, there's a door in the space of wall that used to be blank, and I quickly hurry inside, shutting the door behind me.

"Hannah," says Neville, getting up and hurrying over. "Did you get here alright? Anyone see you?"

I shake my head. "No, I think we're OK."

"Good, good," says Neville, quickly clasping my hand.

We sit down cross-legged by the fireplace that the room has sprouted and start to talk.

***

When it gets to nine o'clock, we suddenly realise that we have to get back to the dormitories.

"You go first," says Neville, almost whispering as we stand by the door.

"Alright," I whisper back, and, poking my head out of the door, I quickly start to hurry down the corridor.

I'm just about to go down the stairs when I hear a barking voice behind me and freeze, flattening myself against the wall.

"Longbottom!" shouts the voice, sounding angrily amused.

My eyes widen, and I start to edge around the corner, my wand raised.

I see Neville glaring at Carrow, his eyes determinedly not looking at me.

"What are you doing out of bed?" asks the Death Eater, glaring right back at Neville.

"Walking," says Neville casually.

"And why would you be doing that, Longbottom, when you know you should be in your Common Room?" sneers Carrow, and I see a flicker of a smile pass over Neville's face, before the glare is back.

Neville doesn't answer, but continues to stare Carrow out.

"Not going to answer me?" laughs Carrow, drawing his wand. "We'll see."

Before I have time to do anything the Death Eater shouts a curse.

"_Crucio_!"

I can't bear to look as Neville falls to ground, writhing.

Glancing around my shoulder quickly, I point my own wand at Amycus Carrow and say a curse of my own.

"Stupefy!" I whisper, and as Carrow falls to the floor, Neville stops shouting.

I rush over to him, and hug him gently.

"Neville?" I whisper.

His face pale green, Neville looks up at me and smiles, standing up.

Taking my hand, Neville seems about to say something, but before he can open his mouth, we hear a bored voice come floating around the corner, and, giving each other one last look, we speed up to our separate dormitories.


	12. Snog

**Snog**

I'm sitting eating breakfast when I see the Carrows and Snape sweep out of the Great Hall.

Immediately, chatter breaks out, and Neville comes rushing over.

"Hannah!" he says happily. "Did you get back alright?"

I nod, feeling strangely bashful in the light of the Great Hall, and stand up so we're eye level.

"Thank you so much for yesterday," he whispers in to my ear.

I turn even pinker, and tuck my hair behind my ear.

I'm about to reply when Neville suddenly grabs me in an almost suffocating embrace and kisses me for the very first time.

All around us, I hear cheers and wolf-whistles, but they're nothing to what's going on in my head.

I close my eyes and try not to notice everyone else as Neville's tongue comes sneakily into my mouth.

It's not an unpleasant sensation.

"Longbottom!" says a scandalised voice somewhere near us. "Miss Abbott!"

We ignore the voice, until Neville suddenly pulls away, saying "Ow!"

Feeling sheepish, we look up at Professor McGonagall, pink-cheeked.

As she opens her mouth, I see Neville wince, expecting a telling off that will be far more painful than the blow to the back of the head he had just received.

"Five points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff," says McGonagall sternly, though I see a hint of a smile play around her mouth. "This is not the time or the place."

"Sorry, Professor," I say brightly, trying not to smile.

"That's alright, Miss Abbott," says Professor McGonagall dryly.

We grin sheepishly at our feet, as McGonagall leans in closer.

"Congratulations, you two," she whispers, and then speeds off.

I look up at Neville incredulously, grinning and he returns my grin, looking a little unnerved.

Giving Neville a kiss on the cheek, I grab my schoolbag and hurry off to Herbology.


	13. Dance

**Dance**

**A/N - OK, this is just after Deathly Hallows… **

I don't think either of us understand Muggle cinemas, but we file in with all the Muggles anyway, and find ourselves on the front row.

"This is weird," I whisper to Neville, as the lights go down.

"I know," he whispers back, but before I have time to reply, the person behind us shushes us furiously.

We turn around, surprised.

"Sorry," I whisper, and the woman rolls her eyes.

Neville and I turn back around, giggling like children.

***

An hour later, the film had turned out to be very, very boring.

"Come on," says Neville, just as one monotonous scene ended and another began.

"Are we going?" I whisper, standing up next to him.

"No," says Neville, and, as I notice the music in the film, Neville takes my hand and directs them to his shoulders, placing his own on my waist.

We are slow dancing, and, annoying as it must be to the people actually enjoying the film, I like it.

The shushing woman makes an angry noise when we don't sit down and rushes out of the room.

Ignoring her, Neville and I carry on dancing.

Sadly, the woman returns a second later with someone who seems to be the manager, and we get thrown out.

I suppose it was inevitable.


	14. Night

**Night**

**A/N - I kind of imagine that in the Wizarding world, they have better products for… this, but, as Hannah hasn't got any with her, she has to use Muggle… the kind they sell at the 24 hour.**

"Hannah! Hannah, wake up!"

"Neville?" I mumble sleepily, trying to sit up. "What is it?"

"Hannah, I think you've cut yourself or something," he says, looking panicked. "You're bleeding loads!"

"What?" I say, still not entirely sure what's going on. "I don't think-"

Puzzled, I reach down to touch the sheets and when I look at them, they're covered in blood.

And so are my pyjama bottoms.

Registering the pains in my stomach, but nowhere else, I jump up from the bed, scarlet-faced.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I squeak, trying not to look at him.

"What?" says Neville urgently. "Hannah, where've you hurt yourself?"

"I haven't hurt myself," I tell him, going even redder.

"But there's blood all over the bed."

"It's… my monthly friend," I say, swallowing and close to tears. "It's come a few days early."

"Monthly…? OH," says Neville, turning even redder than me.

I suddenly notice that he's got a stain on his own pyjamas, presumably from hugging me.

"I'm sorry," I wail, starting to cry. "I've got… your sheets all… all bloody and… your pyjamas… and…"

"Hannah, it's alright," says Neville, vaulting over the bed and hugging me. "S'alright, don't cry!"

Sniffing, I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand.

"I think I'd better go home," I mumble. "I need to get… I mean, I don't have…"

"Hannah, you can't," Neville reminds me. "We've got to go to Laura and Michael's wedding in the morning."

I groan, hiding my face in my hands.

"Oh Merlin," I mutter. "Well, I suppose I'd better run out to the 24 hour…"

"I'll go," offers Neville, though turning a little pale at the thought.

"Neville…" I protest.

"You can't go out all covered in blood," he points out. "Plus, I think I could have been a little more subtle."

I laugh, and finally look Neville in the eye.

"Thank you, Neville," I say weakly.

***

Ten minutes later, I'm sitting in the bathroom, clean and I hear the door click shut.

"Hannah?" calls Neville.

"I'm in the bathroom," I call back, and, a second later, there's a knock on the door.

"Come in," I tell him.

Neville comes into the bathroom, red-faced and silently hands me a small package.

"Thank you," I say again, my own cheeks turning pink.

Neville grins at me, and leaves me to change.

"Neville," I say, beckoning him over.

He looks wary, but comes closer.

"You handled it better than Lupin," I whisper into his ear, and Neville starts to laugh.


	15. Engagement

**Engagement**

When I walk into the Leaky Cauldron, I can tell immediately that something's wrong.

For one thing, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Luna and Harry are all at the bar (not an unusual occurrence), and they're all alone, but weirdly enough, they all seem to be giggling furiously, and are wearing expressions not dissimilar to elves.

"Shh!" says Neville quickly, seeing me come in.

I smile warily at the little group of six, and go upstairs to put away the shopping.

"Not obvious, or anything," I hear Neville mutter as I go up the stairs, obviously rolling his eyes, and I can hear even more giggling.

I'm more than a little freaked out now, but I carry on putting everything into the cupboard, listening closely for any signs that they're all blind drunk.

When I've finished, and I'm changed, I go cautiously downstairs and hear even more giggling.

"Why are you giggling?" I demand, completely puzzled.

They merely giggle harder.

"I think it's time to go," says Neville, taking their glasses and washing them with his wand. "Bye bye."

"OK," they say together, giggling harder, and, nudging each other, they walk slightly unsteadily out of the pub.

At least it's Sunday. We've got no other customers.

"You ready?" asks Neville, smiling dreamily at me.

"Yeah," I answer, folding my arms self-consciously.

Neville smiles even harder, and, grabbing my arm, Apparates us both to a remote hill.

"Pembrokeshire," says Neville proudly.

"Neville…?" I say, bemused by now. "What is going on?"

"Er…" He turns a little red. "Nothing."

I roll my eyes jokily, but follow Neville right out to the edge of the cliff.

"Neville, this isn't the way to solve your problems," I joke, and it's Neville's turn to roll his eyes.

Finally, we stop, and we stand gazing out to sea for a moment, until I realise that Neville's no longer beside me.

I spin away from the sea, slightly worried that Neville's somehow fallen off the cliff, but when I turn around, Neville's on one knee.

"Oh," I say softly, taking a breath in. "Oh…"

Neville takes a deep breath, grinning harder than me.

"Hannah Louise Abbott," he says, gazing up at me. "Will you marry me?"

I feel a shiver go up my spine, as, speechless, I nod.

I'm engaged.


	16. Wedding

**Wedding**

"Oh, oh, oh…"

"Phoebe, it's meant to be the bride excited," I remind her, beaming. "Not the bride's sister."

"Killjoy," pouts Phoebe, grinning.

I stick my tongue out at her, only afterwards realising that I'm possibly too old for doing that.

"You look beautiful," adds Dad, pulling me into a gentle hug, trying hard not to crush my dress.

Hermione and Susan nod in agreement, almost crying with excitement.

I physically can't stop smiling, however nervously.

"I'm getting married today," I almost-giggle, looking around at the bridesmaids.

"Aw," says Phoebe, grinning. "You're still so young!"

"Shut up," I grin back.

Suddenly, Harry pokes his head through the door.

"We're starting!" he whispers, grinning round at us all. "Get ready!"

The piano player strikes up, and we all scramble into position.

Unable to resist, I open the doors a tiny bit and peek through at Neville walking down the aisle.

I can see Ginny and Luna, dabbing their eyes already, and Neville's Gran positively weeping. I can see a few of our cousins, and I can our friends, and I'm so, so happy that they're all here.

I've barely had time to register it all when someone nudges me.

"Hannah, go!" whispers a voice behind me, and I stumble into the hall, smiling, with Dad linking my arm and Susan and Hermione behind me.

"Neville Franklin Longbottom," says Ron, attempting seriousness. "Do you take Hannah to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Neville smiles furtively at me, and I can't help but remember the blushing first year.

"I do."

"Hannah Louise Abbott." Ron gives me a stern glance. "Do you take Neville to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

I nod, and then remember that I need to talk. "I do."

"Good," says Ron. "Now, you may exchange the rings. Neville, go."

Neville looks vaguely up at Ron and moves towards Harry to get the ring.

This normally wouldn't be a hard task, but with it being Neville, he somehow ends up in a tangled heap in the floor.

I can't help but giggle.

"Sorry," apologizes Neville, jumping up and taking the ring from a dishevelled Harry.

There's no apologies necessary, as I realise that I don't want Neville any other way. I don't want a Neville who walks gracefully, or a Neville who can string a coherent sentence together in front of a stranger.

I still can't stop smiling.


	17. Pregnant

**Pregnant**

Ever since the disastrous first night I spent at Neville's, I've kept a very close watch, so when it gets to Tuesday the 25th and I still haven't had it, I'm worried.

I think, sitting on the bed and try to remember the signs of pregnancy.

I've felt nauseated, and I've been eating strangely…

I suddenly feel panicked.

I think I'm pregnant.

Going into the living room, I'm biting anxiously on my nails.

"I'm just popping out," I tell Neville in a mumble.

"OK," says Neville cheerily, looking up from his huge pile of marking.

I smile weakly back at him, and head out the door.

***

Even though I know wizard pregnancy tests are more reliable than Muggle's, I haven't got time to go all the way to St Mungo's, and so I lock myself into the bathroom with some strange sort of device, and try to stop panicking.

***

Sitting with my back against the wall half-an-hour later, I take a deep breath, and wonder how on earth I'm going to tell Neville.

Biting my lip, I try to refrain from crying again, because I know it won't help, and, suddenly very aware of my stomach, I pull myself up and go into the bedroom.

I take another deep breath and walk steadily into the living room.

"Finished!" says Neville triumphantly, throwing down his quill and grinning.

"Oh, great," I say feebly.

"Are you OK?" says Neville warily, registering my red-eyes and pale face.

"I need to talk to you," I say, sitting down next to him.

"Oh," he replies, a little put-out. "OK."

I sit down next to him on the edge of the sofa, biting on my lip and twisting my hands around in my lap.

"Hannah, what is it?" says Neville, unnerved.

I take a deep breath and swallow.

I look up into Neville's eyes and try not to cry.

"Neville, I'm pregnant," I blurt out at last, and for a second I know my fears are justified.

However, it only lasts a second, and then Neville's panic is replaced with a huge smile.

"Oh, Hannah," he beams.

I feel a smile light up my own face as Neville pulls me into a hug.

"We're going to have a baby," I laugh, my fears almost gone.

"Yeah," says Neville into my hair. "Yeah!"


	18. Sickness

**Sickness**

A few days later, Neville's made breakfast.

"Oh, Neville," I say, coming into the kitchen and beaming.

"You alright?" asks Neville cheerily, the same way he does every morning, and dishes toast out onto plates.

I nod, sitting down and glancing down instinctively at my stomach.

"There," says Neville proudly, sitting opposite me.

"So proud," I tease, smiling at him.

Neville turns a little pink, grinning, but he seems absolutely thrilled that my mood swings have kept me happy this morning, and he is in no danger of being hexed.

In unison, we pick up a piece of toast and start on breakfast.

Neville chews appreciatively, but I've only taken one bite of mine when I feel something rush up my throat, and, clapping a hand to my mouth, I drop the toast and run into the bathroom.

"You're welcome," I hear Neville mutter somewhere behind me, but I don't really care.

I'm leaning over the toilet when I hear footsteps coming into the bathroom.

"Oh."

I'm presuming that Neville understands, now, but in reply, I lean over the toilet and vomit a little more.

Neville comes closer and gently holds my hair back, all the while rubbing on my back.

I take a deep breath and lean back against the bath.

"Are you OK?" asks Neville gently. I nod.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, wiping my mouth and looking up at him.

Neville smiles weakly, his face a little green. "It's OK. It's not like you can help it."

"I know," I reply. "But I know you hate this kind of thing."

He shrugs. "I think it's worse for you."

"You look nauseated," I tell him plainly.

"I'll go and get you a drink," he mutters, and wanders out of the bathroom.

I look down at my stomach. "You'd better behave, later," I warn it. "I don't want to throw up in front of Neville's relatives."

"Hannah," says Neville, suddenly sounding concerned as he comes back into the bathroom, holding a cup of water for me.

"Thank you," I murmur, taking the water and sipping it, trying to take the taste away.

"Hannah, you are going to be OK later, aren't you?" asks Neville, frowning. "I had hoped it wouldn't have started by now."

I nod weakly. "I'll be fine. The book said it's only once a day for most women."

"Alright," says Neville warily, bending down to help me up.

I stand up shakily and wipe the sleep out of my eyes.

"Are you going to go back to bed?" asks Neville.

"No." I shake my head. "I just feel icky now, I'm going to go in the shower."

"Oh, OK," says Neville. "Well, I'll keep breakfast warm."

I close my eyes, feeling queasy at the thought.

"You have to eat," says Neville firmly. "You'll feel better."

"OK," I concede.

For a moment, Neville looks like he's about to kiss me, but instead he just gives me a smile and goes into the kitchen.

I start to undress, hoping furiously that the book is right.

***

A few hours later, Neville and I drive into the car park for Neville's Great Uncle Algie and Great Aunt Ruth's 45th wedding anniversary.

I wish I hadn't come, but this is important to Neville.

"Hello!"

Neville's Gran greets us brightly as we step in the door.

"Hi," we reply, a little less exuberantly.

Neville kisses his Gran on the cheek, and she gives me a warm hug.

"Well, you're certainly looking glowing today, dear," she says cheerfully, and panicked, I sneak a glance at Neville, hoping very much that he hasn't told them yet.

From Neville's expression, I can tell immediately that he hasn't told her, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

***

An hour later, I've eaten barely anything, and my moods have been swinging so much that I'm like a human hurricane.

I can tell that the relatives know something's up, but they don't comment.

I'm dancing with Neville when a familiar sensation forms in my throat.

"Oh my god, Neville, I'm going to be sick," I say in an undertone, panicked.

"What?" he says, looking just as panicked as he hurriedly stops spinning. "But…"

"Neville!" I hiss, my hand clapped to my mouth, but before he can move, the vomit moves up into my mouth and, nothing else to do, I lean over and throw up all over the front of Neville's robes.

Humiliated, I start to cry.

All around us, people look sickened, and step back, muttering.

Thankfully, it's an all wizard ceremony, so Neville can just use his wand to vanish it, but he looks disgusted, though he tries to hide it.

"No, no, shh," he says, pulling me close and hugging me. "It's alright."

I just cry harder, and Neville steers me over to a chair, conjuring up a bucket, and I throw up again through my tears.

"I think Hannah's had too much," mutters someone to my left, and hiding my face in my hands, I cry harder.

"No!" cries Neville, shocked. "Hannah's pregnant!"

I mentally slap my forehead as all the relatives come rushing over, hugging us, and looking delighted.

Neville's Gran is almost crying harder than me.

"Come on," says Neville, helping me up. "I think we'd better go home."

I nod tearfully, and nobody seems to mind.

"Neville," I say dangerously, when we get back in the car.

"I know, Hannah," he replies. "But what else was I supposed to do? They thought you were drunk!"

"You could have said I was ill!" I protested.

"Hannah, you threw up all over me on their wedding anniversary," says Neville irritably. "I think that's the only explanation they'd take without killing you."

I take a deep breath, accepting defeat.

It's only when I feel the sensation again that I realise I've left the bucket at the hotel.

"Neville, pull over," I tell him, and, sighing, he does so.

I hate morning sickness.


	19. Baby

**Baby**

It's six o'clock in the morning, and there's something trickling down my leg.

"Oh Merlin," I whisper, looking down at my stomach, holding it tightly as I feel the contractions starting. "Oh Merlin, Merlin, Merlin…"

I start to rush around the bed, but before I can, another contraction starts and I'm in too much pain to move, almost bent double and gasping.

"Neville!" I whisper urgently, through the pain, trying to breathe. "Neville, wake up, for the love of Merlin, wake up!"

Neville stirs, wiping his eyes.

"What is it, Hannah?" he asks blearily, slightly irritable. "It's six o'clock in the morning!"

"I know it's six o'clock in the morning," I say, almost pleading. "I'm in labour!"

"_What?!_" Neville cries, jumping up and rushing over. "Why didn't you say?"

If I had any breath left, I'd make the most cutting comment you can think of, but my teeth won't seem to ungrit.

"OK, breathe, breathe," says Neville soothingly, putting an arm around me. "It's OK, it's OK…"

I resist the desire to punch him in the stomach.

He leads me out of the building, waving his wand towards the blackboard so that it reads - "Be back soon."

Finally, we get somewhere quiet, and, spinning around, Neville Apparates us to an alley behind St Bartholomew's Hospital.

I wish I could be in the wizarding world right now, but I can't.

Neville half-carrying me, we stumble up the steps and into the waiting room.

Before I have time to talk, a nurse rushes up to me, and practically throws me onto a wheelchair, and before I know what's going on, I'm on a bed in a maternity ward, trying not to scream.

"I've called your contact numbers," says a doctor somewhere beside me. "Your sister and your dad are coming, Mrs Longbottom, and your gran, Mr Longbottom."

I can see how much Neville wants to tell him that it's actually Professor, but he refrains in my honour.

The doctor leaves, after how long I don't know and Neville and I are alone.

"How long have we been here?" I ask hazily.

Neville, blurry somewhere above me, looks worried.

"A couple of hours," he tells me quickly. "Hannah, are you alright?"

"I don't know," I mumble, realising that I don't even feel the contractions anymore, but I know they're still happening. "Have they given me drugs?"

"I don't think so," says Neville anxiously, putting his arm around me. "Hannah, I think something's wrong, I'm going to get the doctor."

"Don't go," I mutter vaguely.

"I'll be back in a second," promises Neville gently, tentatively letting go of me.

I close my eyes, and cradle my stomach in my arms.

"I think something's really wrong," I hear Neville say in a panicked whisper. "She's gone really strange."

"She's probably just tired," says a soothing voice. "She's trying to push a human out of her, it's only natural-"

"No, I'm telling you," says Neville frantically. "There's something really wrong!"

I hear the door swing open, but I don't look up.

"Hannah?" says the doctor, almost sternly, and I look blearily up at him, my eyes misty.

The doctor comes closer.

"Hannah, is something hurting you?" says the doctor loudly, but I don't have the energy to reply.

"What's wrong?" Neville asks the doctor, glancing down at me, and then back up. "What's happened?"

"I don't know," admits the doctor. "But we have to get the baby out of her, now."

"Are they both going to be OK?" he asks anxiously, but the doctor ignores him, and gently takes me by the hand.

I look up at him, recognizing vaguely that I'm in the midst of another contraction.

"Hannah?" says the doctor kindly. "We're going to have to give you a caesarean section."

I nod vaguely, not positive what I'm agreeing to.

Sometime later, someone injects me with something, and I don't remember anything else for a while.

***

When I wake up, everything seems much clearer.

I sit up, and look around.

Neville, asleep in the chair beside me, stirs in his sleep, but he merely turns over, dribbling slightly.

Dad and Phoebe are in the corner, discussing something over some forms, but when they see that I've woken, they jump up and rush over.

"Hannah!" they exclaim, rushing over to hug me.

"Are you OK?" adds Dad, holding me at arm's length, his glasses askew.

"I'm fine," I tell them. "What happened?"

They exchange a look.

"Is the baby alright?" I ask suddenly, remembering, and they both nod hurriedly.

"She's fine," Phoebe assures me. "It's-"

"She?" I interrupt her, beaming at this unexpected surprise.

"Oh, yeah," says Phoebe, almost impatiently. "It's a girl."

Nobody says anything for a while.

"What happened?" I ask again.

Dad struggles with himself. "We… don't really know."

I blink at him.

"You had a caesarean," explains Phoebe, trying to help.

"But why?" I ask urgently, starting to feel that something's really wrong. "What happened?"

"You… might have been cursed," says Phoebe at last. "We moved you to St Mungo's, they're checking you out."

"Why would they curse me?" I say, panicked.

"Oh, Hanny," says Dad, almost exasperated. "It's no secret about Neville, you know that, and you were both in Dumbledore's Army…"

"But, Hannah, you're going to be fine," Phoebe assures me. "They don't reckon it's anything."

I bite my lip. "And the baby's fine?"

They nod.

I sigh. "Have they run all their tests on me?"

They nod again.

"The results are coming this afternoon," Phoebe adds.

***

An hour later, Neville's finally woken up, and is sitting on the end of my bed.

Just as we're about to go insane with panic, a Healer enters the room.

"You were cursed," he concludes gravely, looking me directly in the eye.

"By…?" asks Neville impatiently.

The Healer looks uncomfortable. "The Aurors are here, they're investigating."

Neville and I look at each other, and sigh.

"So…" I ask. "Can I… I mean, will you… is it…?"

The Healer looks a little confused. "You've been treated, Mrs Longbottom, you'll soon be free to go."

I feel inexpressibly relieved, and it must show on my face, because the Healer pauses in the doorway, smiling.

"I expect you want to see your baby girl," he beams.

***

I stand over the cot, looking down at the baby, Neville's arms around me, holding me close.

"What do you want to name her?" he whispers, after a while.

I bite my lip, suddenly stiff.

"Neville, I wanted to…" I trail off, nervous.

He seems surprised by this suddenly quietness.

"You wanted to what?" he asks warily.

I take a deep breath.

"I want to name her Poppy," I tell him in a rush. "After my mum, and I know you wanted to name her Alice after yours, but…"

Neville sighs, and I can tell he's thinking hard, but what I don't know.

"Poppy's nice," he says at last. "She's… she's much more like you than me."

"Thank you, Neville," I say quietly, feeling my eyes mist up with tears. "Thank you."


	20. Crush

**Crush**

**A/N - A couple of weeks later…**

When Neville stumbles into the flat, his face white and worried, I immediately jump up.

"What's wrong?" I ask him, worried.

"Er…" Neville looks uncomfortable. "Nothing."

"Neville, seriously," I persist.

"It's nothing," he says, more firmly.

"You haven't been hexed, have you?"

Neville looks vaguely exasperated. "Hannah, nothing's happened, I promise."

I sigh, and sat back down on the couch.

Neville sits next to me, smiling sadly. "You know they caught Avery."

"I know," I say quietly. "But…"

We sit in silence for a moment, neither one of us having anything to say.

"Well," I say at last, standing up and trying to smile. "I suppose I'll make dinner."

"Oh…" says Neville, looking uncomfortable. "Don't bother… I'm not feeling wonderful... I think I'll go to bed."

"Oh," I echo, surprised. "Right, then."

Neville smiles in that strange way again, and goes almost unsteadily into the bedroom.

Suddenly, I'm suspicious.

Practically tiptoeing, I lean around the doorframe, and point my wand at Neville's back.

"Revelio!" I whisper, and the relief that I feel when nothing happens is ridiculous.

Of course it's not a Death Eater. Of course it isn't.

Now all I have to do is work out what's really happened to Neville.

When I'm sure he's in bed, I go into the bedroom, and get into my pyjamas, positive that he's still awake. I brush my teeth and wash my face, and by the time I lie down next to him, Neville's so tense he's practically made of stone.

Realising that I'm going to have to coax it out of him, I sit up and turn the light on.

"Neville," I say. "Neville, I know you're not asleep."

Slowly, he sits up and turns to me.

I look back at him sternly. "What's wrong?"

"I told you, I'm not feeling well," he says feebly.

"Neville, come on," I half-laugh-half-snort. "I've only ever heard you admit that you weren't feeling well when you were actually ill twice. Normally you just get on with being ill. So you just do it when you're upset. What's wrong?"

Neville sighs deeply.

"Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?" he asks at last, choosing his words carefully.

I start to laugh.

"Of course!" I say. "Most girls do at some point!"

"Who?" he asks sceptically. "Professor McGonagall?"

"I'm sure we've talked about this," I protest, embarrassed now.

"When did we talk about _this_?"

"You remember," I mumble, turning red. "In sixth year."

"Lupin?" he remembers, astonished. "That was _true_?"

"Yes," I say, a little dreamily, still red-faced. "Half our class were madly in love with him!"

"Oh my God," says Neville, puzzled.

"Come on," I say. "You can't deny he was really nice."

"Yes," he admits. "But he wasn't exactly… um…"

"Yes he was!" I say, surprised. "He had nice hair, and he was all tall and everything."

Even as I think about it, I can't help but feel sad that's he's not here anymore. And not just because of his hair.

"So… what happened in the end?" he asks tentatively, searching through a subject we've never really discussed.

I sigh, and shrug. "I grew out of it by fourth year."

"Did everyone?" Neville persists, clearly entering a whole new world.

"I suppose," I say. "We never really discussed it on that level. We just talked about how nice his hair was."

"I never noticed his hair," Neville says uncomfortably.

I feel a theory start to form in my mind.

"Neville, what's this about?" I ask slyly, smiling awkwardly up at him. "Has one of your students…"

"No," Neville squeaks, not meeting my eye.

I know I've got it.

"Neville…" I laugh. "Come on, who is it?"

"Not telling," he pouts, half-smiling.

"Tell me!" I laugh.

"No!" he replies, laughing now. "I am not telling you!"

"Come on," I say, deciding on bribery. "If I tell you what to do, will you tell me?"

"Yes," says Neville immediately. "Please tell me."

"Neville, you don't actually have to do anything," I tell him, slightly condescending. "She'll grow out of it."

"I know," he sighs. "But it's just weird."

"Neville…"

"I know. OK. But is there anything I could DO?"

"Just be nice to her!" I tell him gently. "It's… well, it's kind of painful, you know."

Neville bites his lip. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

"So," I say. "Who is it?"

Again, Neville exhales sharply.

"Wait," he says. "I have more questions first."

I look up at me, waiting.

"Did Lupin ever find out you liked him?" he asks uncertainly.

I feel my cheeks blush a deep scarlet, looking down at the duvet. I fiddle with my hair for a moment, before nodding.

The memory is still painful, somehow.

"What did he do?" Neville asks, obviously vaguely amused.

"Talked to me," I mumble.

"What did he say?" he asks, almost laughing.

"I don't want to say," I mutter, embarrassed and almost inaudible.

"I won't tell you who it is…"

I sigh and begin talking. "He was just nice to me. He kept me back after class because I started crying in his lesson the day before."

"Why were you crying?" says Neville curiously.

"Meg said something which really wasn't funny," I explain, a little reluctant. "And then I was about to say something back when he came over to see our work and I just looked at him, burst into tears and ran out of the room."

"What did she say?" he persists, and now it's Neville getting something out of me.

"Neville…"

"Tell me!"

There's a pause, while I consider.

"She just said something about how I would only pass Defence if I slept with the teacher," I say at last, my teeth gritted.

"Oof," says Neville, shocked.

"She apologized after," I shrug, trying to be casual. "And we both cried and hugged each other."

"Right." Neville looks confused. "So what did Professor Lupin say to you?" he asks.

I try to work out how to put it.

"He kept me behind the next lesson and he sort of started talking about magical creatures," I tell Neville. "Then he asked me if anything was bothering me, and when I said no he said he'd heard what Meg had said. And then he was really nice and everything. I think he was showing that he didn't mind. And then he always smiled at me in the corridor and stuff."

There's a pause.

"Now it's your turn for telling," I laugh. "Who is it? Do I know them?"

Neville nods.

"Who?" I persist.

"You know Laura's daughter-" Neville begins, but I interrupt him, a little disappointed.

"Oh, I've known that for ages!" I tell him.

"How?"

"Laura told me," I shrug. "She overhead Molly talking to their neighbour."

Neville looks vaguely outraged.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demands.

"I promised I wouldn't," I tell him casually.

Satisfied that there's nothing else, I decide to go to sleep.

"I'm going to sleep," I say suddenly. "Night."

I kiss Neville on the cheek and gently break away, lying down and turning off the light.

As we lie in the dark, I wonder if they find him half as attractive as I do, and I smile.


	21. Hogwarts

**Hogwarts**

**Poppy Longbottom**

I know that I shouldn't be scared, and I know that I've been waiting to go to Hogwarts all my life, and I know that I already have friends here, and I know that that's more than most people.

But, to be honest, I'm terrified.

I glance sideways to where Dom is looking laid back, shaking her short hair back from her face, and I wonder how she doesn't care that everyone's watching her. Then I look on my other side to Lucy, who's looking, for some reason, eager.

I blush, and shrink down a little, looking at the floor, my blonde hair shading my face.

When the hat has finished singing, the school claps, and the First Years huddle together even tighter.

"Right," says Dad, when the hall is quiet again. "Let the Sorting begin!"

I swallow, and try not to throw up all down myself.

"Abbott, Cherry!"

My cousin Cherry looks around helplessly, and then bravely strides up to the front of the hall, looking ready to face a dragon. She sits on the stool, and lowers the hat over her eyes, and there's a pause.

"Gryffindor!"

Cherry beams, and then marches over to the Gryffindor table, towards the applause.

"Allen, Rachel!"

The hat has barely toughed Rachel's head when it screams - "Slytherin!"

I sigh, and listen as many more names pass, practically unnoticed.

"Longbottom, Poppy!"

For some reason, everyone laughs a little at my name, and who my father is, and I can't help but blush.

When I stumble up to the stool, I finally meet my dad's eye, and he gives me a small smile, handing me the hat.

I carefully take it, and sit down with it over my head.

_Hmm._

I jump a little, hearing an unfamiliar voice inside my head, but I soon calm myself.

_A Longbottom. Well, that makes a nice change. I haven't had one since your Dad._

I scrunch up my face, and try not to panic.

_You do know people can see you doing that._

I immediately unscrunch my face, and, somewhere far away, I hear some more giggling, and sigh.

_Well, I don't think Ravenclaw would suit you, that's for sure. Too competitive. You don't really like competition, do you?_

I resist the urge to shake my head.

_And definitely not Slytherin. You're not sly at all, are you?_

There's a pause.

_Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, then, I suppose._

I swallow again.

_I see that you don't have a preference. Hufflepuff like your mum, or Gryffindor like your dad._

I'm sure I've been under here too long, and I mentally tell the hat to hurry up.

_Alright then._

And before I could say anything else, the hat shouted.

"Hufflepuff!"

Relieved that I can finally sit down, I pull the hat off of my head, and, avoiding the eyes of everyone in the school, I half-run over to where the First Year Hufflepuffs are sitting.

When I get there, I cautiously look up at my dad, and I can't help but feel guilty that he looks a little disappointed.

***

The next morning, First Years had no lessons, and instead were told to explore.

Feeling obligated to do so, I go down to the place where I know Dad's office was, and knock on the door.

He opens the door with a smile that, to my relief, doesn't droop at all when he sees who it is.

"Poppy," he says. "Not lost, are you?"

I shake my head, biting my lip.

"Are you OK?" he asks gently, and, once again, I shake my head.

Putting a gentle hand on my shoulder as I start to cry, Dad ushers me inside his office.

When the door is closed, he pulls me into a hug.

"What's the matter?" he asks soothingly. "Is someone saying something to you?"

I shake my head again, trying to choke back my tears.

"What is it?" repeats Dad.

There's a pause, while I try and fail to control myself.

"I'm not in Gryffindor!" I wail at last.

"What?" says Dad, laughing a little as he holds me at arms length to look at me closely. "Poppy, you said you didn't even care what house you were in!"

I shake my head again. "I don't! But… but you were, and… you killed Voldemort's snake… and…"

"Poppy, shh," says Dad kindly, cutting me off. "I promise you, it doesn't matter to me, if it doesn't matter to you."

I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand.

"Really, Poppy," he assures me.

"Then why did you look disappointed last night?" I demand, staring up at him.

Dad struggles for a minute.

"Poppy, to be quite honest," he says at last. "I think I had the same problem as you."

"What?" I ask, puzzled, and Dad sighs.

"Poppy, people will expect great things from you, because of your name," he tells me, and I feel my face crumple slightly. "And I just thought that maybe it would be easier for you if you were in Gryffindor…

"But," he says, smiling, "Poppy, you can do just as well in Hufflepuff, I know it. Look at your mum. Look at Uncle Ernie!"

I nod, feeling a bit better.

"Pops, I mean it," says Dad, more gently. "It honestly doesn't matter."

I nod again, and silently vow to be the best Hufflepuff Hogwarts has ever seen.


End file.
